


Coffee and Interdimensional Salvage Rights

by coinin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, M/M, i have no idea what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coinin/pseuds/coinin
Summary: Another day, another mishap involving a wormhole - only this time, Keith meets a kindred spirit.





	Coffee and Interdimensional Salvage Rights

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS THROUGH S7 OF VOLTRON, and a hearty middle finger to S8
> 
> This was originally a prompt fill for the Overmatch kinkmeme on Dreamwidth. The prompt asked for “McCree and Keith bond over having crushes on older men and over their frustrations that nobody seems to think young legal adults are capable of consent.” This is.... sort of that. Anyway, I reread it for the first time since writing and it was better than I remembered, so I’m posting it officially.

Another day, another wormhole; Keith tumbling head over heels through interdimenensional nothingness and trying very hard not to throw up into the void. The void probably wouldn’t appreciate it. 

Keith’s head hurts. Keith’s _everything_ hurts, but his head hurts more. That’s what happens when, when.... Keith can’t remember what happened. 

The void is kind of peaceful. A little like nights back home if the stars had spun in dizzying streaks-

Keith is going to be sick.

It’s possible he has a concussion, Keith thinks muzzily as he tries, without much success, to figure out how to barf while tumbling through zero-g without getting any on himself.

There’s a flash and - “Hey, buddy,” Keith says happily as space wolf - not Kosmo, fuck you Lance - appears next to Keith and grabs him by the back of the jacket. Keith jerks to a stop, and oh quiznak he really is going to be sick now-

He opens his mouth to say something- warn space wolf? - he can’t remember now, opening his mouth was a _terrible_ idea - just as space wolf zaps them away.

They land, still tumbling, on a hard, gritty surface. Keith rolls to a stop, shoves himself upright, and empties his stomach onto red sandstone. Thank goodness for alien space helmets that disappear when needed, because throwing up inside his Blade of Marmora helmet would have sucked. 

Well, wherever they are, Keith can breathe the air. 

There’s also a lot of shouting. He should probably pay attention to that. Space wolf doesn’t seem worried, though. Keith trusts space wolf’s judgement. 

Keith staggers upright, looking around wildly for the shouting. There’s an Altean - wait no, she’s human. They’re _humans_ , and Keith is so stunned he doesn’t register the Galra Centurion until it’s reaching for him. 

He has his sword in hand, his mask back up, but then one of the humans, a kid wearing a cowboy hat and not much younger than Keith, runs toward them, shouting. 

“Hey fucker, don’t you pull a knife on Bob!” The kid shouts, and then, “Jesus Christ what in the holy hell is that,” when space wolf shoves past Keith. 

Bob? Keith thinks, dizzy, but what he says is, “a space wolf, obviously.”

And then, mercifully, he passes out. 

***

Keith wakes up in a bed, with space wolf sleeping next to him, head resting on Keith's chest. 

"Ugh, get off," Keith wheezes. Space wolf is _heavy_. "You're not a puppy any more."

Space wolf sighs deeply, but moves. Now Keith can breath, but his head still feels like someone's stabbing him in the temples.

"McCree, the prisoner's awake!" Someone shouts, and oh right, that was a thing that happened. 

McCree turns out to be the kid with the cowboy hat, and also one of the leaders of the gang that's captured Keith. Keith doesn't know why's he surprised that a kid is a gang leader - after all, Keith and the rest were kids when they found the Lions. Keith's on Earth, which is even more surprising, but not _his_ Earth, which given Keith's luck, isn't surprising at all. But that's alright, they have apple pie, and real barbecue, and best of all they have _coffee_ which Keith is so glad to see he actually gets choked up. McCree seems to understand, leaves Keith alone with the coffee pot for a while while Keith regains his composure.

Evening finds them both up on a bluff over the Deadlock hideout, sprawled on the warm rocks as they watch the sun set and the stars rise. McCree's smoking one of his awful cigarettes - space wolf had whined, lips drawn back, before pointedly disappearing and reappearing several meters away. Privately, Keith agrees - who smokes in this day and age? - but he contents himself with sitting upwind.

The red rocks and clear skies, the familiar constellations, McCree's drawl all combine into something soothing, and Keith finds himself relaxing, letting his guard down.

He's in the middle of telling McCree about the Galra and Voltron, about how he used to be a Paladin but now he's with the Blade of Marmora, when McCree chuckles.

"What?" Keith asks, stung.

"Naw, it ain't - y'just sound like a local, is all," McCree says, grinning lazily. He has a crooked smile, and it's unreasonably charming.

"I grew up in Texas," Keith replies. "Well, my Texas."

McCree toasts him with his beer bottle, still grinning, and Keith finds himself smiling awkwardly in response as he clinks his coffee mug against McCree's bottle. (Keith doesn't care that it's rapidly getting late, he's going to take full advantage of this opportunity to drink all the coffee he possibly can.)

Even later, when the Milky Way is unspooled across the night like milk and diamond dust and McCree is sprawled out on his back, beer bottle empty and forgotten, Keith tells McCree about Shiro.

Beautiful, untouchable Shiro, who Keith would die for. Shiro, who he's already lost once, and who has saved Keith more times, and in more ways, than Keith can count.

"You ever tell him you're completely gone on him?" McCree asks quietly when Keith finishes.

Keith drops his head onto his knees and groans.

"I've tried," he says. "Last time he put his hand on my shoulder and called me 'buddy.'"

"Ouch," McCree says, which just about sums it up.

"He's so sincere," Keith says hopelessly. "And dense. So dense. It’s not like I’m subtle,” he continues bitterly. “One of our teachers pulled me aside to lecture me about unhealthy power balances, and to remember that I could talk to any of the faculty if any older student, hint hint, was making me uncomfortable. She didn’t come right out and say Shiro’s name, but it was pretty obvious.”

“Fuckin’ teachers,” McCree replies companionably. “S’why I quit school.”

“Me too.”

“But you were some kinda fancy pilot. You coulda gone out there and proved ‘em wrong.”

“Wasn’t any point, after Shiro disappeared. They all hated me anyway,” Keith says, and sighs. 

“Fuck ‘em all, then,” McCree says, and shifts to sit down next to Keith. “You’re out there saving the goddamn universe, who cares what they think.” He drops a companionable arm over Keith's shoulder.

"So I have an idea,” McCree says. “How about we go find ourself some horizontal privacy, and I promise not to call you buddy?" McCree says, and it takes Keith a minute but when he gets it he goes hot all over.

He glances at McCree from behind the shelter of his bangs. McCree's smiling at him, easy and open. He's cute, and close, and Keith is suddenly reminded of how long it's been since he touched another human.

Turns out McCree is just as good at kissing as Keith is, which is to say not particularly but ready to make up for any shortcomings with good old American can-do spirit. More importantly, he's extremely enthusiastic about getting his mouth on Keith's dick, and vice versa.

All in all, a pleasant evening.

***

Space wolf wakes Keith up sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and Keith knows it's time to go.

He feels a little bad about not saying goodbye - he _does_ have manners, thanks Lance - but Keith’s not about to go wandering through an unfamiliar gang hideout in the middle of the night. That’s asking to get shot, and Keith isn’t stupid. 

He rests his hand on the space wolf’s back, and they blink out-

And into a room that is definitely not the Blade’s headquarters, or the Castle of Lions, or anywhere else Keith recognizes. There’s more cowboy paraphernalia than Keith has ever seen in one place outside of that one tacky bar near the Garrison that conveniently forgot to check IDs, and someone snoring softly in a bed not unlike the one Keith just left. 

“Uh,” Keith says, and wow, that’s a gun pointed squarely at his chest. 

"Whathefuck," McCree mumbles like it's all one word, squinting at Keith.

“Was that under your _pillow_?” Keith asks, because a knife is one thing - nice and flat - but he has no idea how anyone could sleep with that monster under their head. 

“Yeah?” McCree replies, lowering the gun, and Keith shakes his head. Focus, Keith. 

"I'm leaving. So. Bye?” Kieth says, wincing at his own awkwardness. He settles his hand in space wolf’s ruff. 

“How?” McCree asks blearily. 

“Space wolf tele-“ Keith starts, and then they blink out. “-ports,” he finishes with resignation, looking around the familiar territory of the Blade’s headquarters. 

 

Half a universe behind and a few to the side, Jesse McCree stares at the empty space by his bed. 

“What,” he says with great feeling, “the actual fuck.”

++

It’s Haggar’s fault this time - some Altean witchcraft that sends Keith and the Black Lion into the space between universes, every screen lit up and screaming at Keith, Black herself in Keith’s mind and broadcasting alarm. Behind him Kosmo is growling, and above it all, Haggar’s gravelly laughter. 

Time stretches, everything goes cyan, and Kosmo howls. 

Black is dead in the air when they zap out of the in between place, tumbling head over tail until they slam into the ground hard enough to knock Keith out. 

He comes to in the all-too-familiar dimness of Black’s powered-down cockpit. Looks like he’s stuck wherever he is for a while, then. 

“Kosmo?” Keith asks, voice rough. He coughs, and tries again, but there’s no answer. 

Alarmed, Keith staggers up out of the control chair and looks around. Kosmo is on the floor, very still, but even as Keith feels his own brain grinding to a halt Kosmo whines and tries to get up. 

Kosmo doesn’t quite make it, but Keith’s there to catch his friend before he hits the deck. He’s even heavier than he used to be, but Keith doesn’t care. Kosmo licks Keith’s cheek. 

After a while, Keith becomes aware of noises from outside. Shouting, maybe, heavily muffled by the the Lion’s bulk. 

Together, they creep toward the exit. Keith hates going in blind, but with Black unresponsive he can’t scan their surroundings, can’t even see outside. He takes a deep breath, and opens the hatch. 

There are a lot of human-shaped people outside, is the first thing Keith notices. The second thing he notices is all the _very large guns_.

“Come out with your hands-“ someone shouts, “-up!” the unknown person finishes, as Keith and Kosmo blink into existence behind the first line of soldiers.

Keith pulls his punches on the off chance these guys are friendly, avoids stabbing and settles for kicking people in the backs of their knees and clocking people in the head with the butt of his bayard. Four down and then jump, let Kosmo catch him and teleport them just as the rest are starting to correct their aim. 

One of them looks like a ninja and has a sword, and that’s exciting - he’s good too, surprises Keith and presses his advantage until they’re locked together, hilt to hilt. The teleporting space wolf really is an unfair advantage, Keith thinks happily as Kosmo grabs him, depositing him behind the ninja. Keith brings his bayard down on the back of the guy’s head as he stumbles forward, off balance due to Keith’s sudden relocation. 

Some big bastard with a pair of shotguns tries to shoot Keith, but he gets his shield up in time, rushes the guy and lets Kosmo jump him forward. The guys swears and stumbles backwards, and Keith punches him right in the jaw. 

That leaves one left standing - ridiculous cape, cowboy hat - and something about him is nagging at Keith. Kosmo blinks Keith into existence behind the guy, but he spins, smart enough to be expecting Keith, and they end up in a stalemate; Keith’s sword at this guy’s throat and his gun in Keith’s stomach. 

Keith retracts his Paladin mask and snarls “ _Yield_.”

“Hot damn, it is you,” the guy says, laughing. “Woulda recognized your friend anywhere.”

Keith stares in shocked incomprehension until-

“Jesse McCree?” He asks, staring at the man in front of him. A little older, a little taller, a _lot_ more muscle now, wow. Keith’s kind of jealous of that last part. 

“The very same,” McCree says with that same crooked grin, holstering his gun with a flourish. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

“I never thought I’d end up here again,” Keith says, lowering his bayard slightly. He doesn’t retract his blade - he _is_ still surrounded by hostiles.

“We’re good, Boss,” McCree shouts. “He’s a friendly.”

“Boss” appears to be the big angry guy with the twin shotguns, who’s now rubbing at his jaw and looking murderous. 

McCree slings an arm around Keith’s shoulders and gestures expansively at the sullen remains of his team with the other. 

“This here’s Keith, an old buddy of mine. Keith, meet Blackwatch.”

++

That evening finds them sitting on top of the Black Lion, which is parked sadly on the tarmac at what Keith has been informed is the headquarters of a global peacekeeping force called Overwatch. The view is spectacular: snowy mountains as far as the eye can see. Keith, who shed his Paladin gear in favor of slightly more inconspicuous borrowed Blackwatch sweats, is glad for both the giant fluffy parka McCree found for him and the thermos of liberally whisky-spiked hot cocoa that brought along to their rooftop rendezvous. It’s chilly. 

Keith had, unknown to him, crashed somewhere in what is left of this Earth’s Russia, in territory that edges on areas still controlled by evil robots. Keith nods along to the explanation, figuring amthat as far as things go it’s not that crazy. No one’s mentioned time traveling space whales or evil aliens living for ten thousand years by sucking the life force out of planets, so really, he’s lived weirder. Blackwatch had airlifted Black to Switzerland via heavy helicopter, and now here they are, watching the setting sun paint the snow in glorious color. 

They spend a while catching up - how’s saving the universe going, oh you know, pretty good considering; we saved Earth in the end but now there’s a psychotic space witch out to get us, how about you? Not too shabby, got arrested but made the best of it, now I get to jump out of helicopters and blow shit up very nearly legally. You know, the usual. Yada yada, blah blah blah. 

“You ever get that boy of yours - can’t remember his name, sorry. You ever get him to stop calling you buddy?” McCree asks after they’ve finished catching up.

Keith can't help the stupid grin he feels stretching across his face. He ducks his head in an attempt to hide it.

"He's good," Keith mutters. "We're good."

McCree whoops loud enough to disturb the birds settling in to roost on a nearby roof and pounds Keith on the back.

"Hell yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about," McCree says gleefully. "Knew you had it in you. So how'd it go down? Gimme the details."

"Uh," Keith starts, because honestly how do you explain that the man you loved had died and been replaced by an evil clone, and after the clone had betrayed and tried to kill you and you'd cut off his mind-control arm the real one had visited you on the astral plane to explain and an alien princess had transferred his consciousness into the clone's body? It sounded insane even in Keith's head, and he was the one who had been there for all of it. McCree would think he was completely off the deep end. "It's... a long story. He kind of died again, but Allura - uh, she's the princess, her dad built the lions - she saved him, and then," Keith stops, shrugs. "I followed him back to his room and kissed him. Seemed to get the message through." Something - probably long experience with Lance, if Keith's being honest - tells him McCree's about to press for details, so Keith desperately goes for a change of subject. "So, you and Reyes, huh?"

McCree groans, tipping his hat down to cover his face.

"That obvious?"

"Not really," Keith replies. He's not sure exactly what tipped him off - the way McCree bumped shoulders with Reyes in the transport back to Zurich could have been platonic familiarity, but Keith had a _feeling_. Maybe it's because he knows how it feels, pining after someone right there and yet just out reach.

McCree heaves a deep sigh, and they sit in companionable silence for a while.

"He's tryin' be all _honorable_ about it," McCree says finally, disgust evident in his voice. He drops his voice to an imitation of Reyes' growl, "'I'm too old for you, kid,' that kinda shit. Won't say he's not interested. Think fucking Morrison got into his head - I overheard the Strike Commander givin' him the lecture about 'undue influence' over 'young recruits,' like I'm not out there shootin' fuckers on their command every day." McCree laughs bitterly. "Old enough to shoot, not old enough to fuck."

"Saved the universe multiple times, still have people concerned about me and Shiro."

McCree holds his fist out, and Keith bumps it.

"I think Coran gave us the Altean sex talk," Keith offers, after a while. "It was confusing. Shiro turned bright red."

"S'like they forget we're adults. Try to whip out their superior wisdom or some shit. Hell, maybe I want to make my own mistakes."

"Coran meant well," Keith replies, feeling compelled to defend him. "He hugged us and started crying about noble bonds of warriorhood when we told him."

"Sounds like a character."

"He is."

There's another long moment of silence as they watch the first stars come out. Keith's glad his Paladin armor keeps his body warm, because his nose is beginning to get very cold. Eventually McCree shivers and sits up.

"Think it's time for me to head inside. Too damn cold for a desert boy out here."

Kosmo teleports them both to the ground, and then, just as Keith's heading into the mouth of his lion, something occurs to him.

"McCree!" He shouts, turning and jogging back down the ramp. "Want me to tell him you're good at-" he breaks off and mimes a blowjob.

"Hell no, you can't judge me based on that," McCree says through laughter. "That was years ago, I've put a lot of work in since then!"

++

The bunks in the lions are built to Altean sizes, so they're generous if you're sleeping alone. Keith, however, has to share his with an enormous furry bed hog, which means he wakes up too early in the morning smushed up against the wall by Kosmo's bulk and overheating horribly. He drags himself out of bed - no point in going back to sleep now, leaves Kosmo to sprawl across the entire bed, and goes in search of a better breakfast than the emergency rations they all keep stashed in their lions. Black is still offline and unresponsive, and Keith wonders how long it will take for the lion to recharge. If the lion will recharge. What if this universe doesn't have Quintessence?

Someone must have been watching Keith, because McCree finds him before Keith reaches the main complex that he thinks houses the mess. McCree has coffee in one hand and what looks like a breakfast burrito in the other, and honestly Keith doesn't even care that he's obliviously being babysat if said babysitting comes with breakfast burrito delivery.

They're ambling back toward the lion, Keith tucking into what is an unexpectedly excellent breakfast burrito, given that it came out of a military kitchen in Switzerland, when the pale morning sky goes weird.

It's an Altean wormhole, Keith realizes a half second later as the weirdness resolves into the familiar swirling purple-black nothingness and four lions fly out. Black's eyes light up gold, and the lion slowly rights itself. McCree's swearing a blue streak, and all around them klaxons are going off and people are sprinting around in a panic. Keith shoves the last of the burrito into his mouth and throws both arms into the air with a muffled whoop of joy.

"These your friends?" McCree asks, voice strained. Someone, probably Reyes, is shouting over his comm so loudly Keith can hear it even over the chaos.

"Yeah," Keith shouts back. His own communicator comes suddenly online, Shiro's voice frantic and staticy before it stabilizes. 

"Get outta here before some dumbshit tries to shoot y'all outta the sky," McCree shouts back.

Keith nods, and then, struck by a terrible, Lance-like flash of inspiration, grins. "Tell Reyes I said you suck dick like a pro!" he bellows, hopefully loud enough for McCree's comm to pick up, and then, while McCree's still spluttering, Keith salutes him. 

Kosmo appears next to him, Keith grabs Kosmo's fur, and the next instant he's back in Black's cockpit, the Paladins and Shiro on all his screens, Black purring in the back of his mind as she crouches to spring skyward.

"Let's go home," Keith says.


End file.
